i hate pets.

sometimes, i am almost positive that the Fuzzbutt comes inside for the sole purpose of shitting in the litterbox, and then immediately begs to be let outside again. WTF, cat? there is actual dirt outside, go shit in it!

in other news, there is a third cat, LBC. LBC can stand for "little black cat," or "little Basement Cat," and there's also a 90% chance she was named after a Snoop Dogg song, because she starts some drama, yo.


also, i am wondering how well regular eggnog freezes, because i'd really like to make some eggnog daiquiris of my own...

any helpful suggestions are welcome. especially about the constant cat in-and-out bit. i would love a pet door, but somehow i don't think my landlord would go for it. she's nice enough to not have a pet deposit.

thanksgiving: still one of my favorite holidays, in spite of ambushing my birthday weekend, year after year.

this song has been stuuuuuuuuuck in my head, in the good way, all weekend:
click. it's good for you. i promise. (it's animal collective).

so, today is my birthday, and that's pretty awesome.
[insert Happy Birthday to Meeeeee!!! Dance here]
tonight i'm going out with the Matt to one of those fancy restaurants what makes him wear a suit, and me a dress. no doubt, pictures will follow, just not now.

but i DO have plenty of pictures to show you, my little minions.

because i got a new camera. it's my "happy birthday to me" present. i am in love.


we also went for a few days to my mom's house, over mississippi and through the alabama.
matt's mom also joined us (US being me, Matt, my mom, his mom, CJ (mom's husband, so my stepdad, although they didn't marry until i was in college) and my brother, Logan).
(Matt, Matt's mom, mom, in that order from left)

we had delicious food courtesy of the moms
(that would be a homemade potato roll, mashed potatoes, turkey and gravy open-face sandwich there, made by moi) and we also had homemade birthday chocolate cheesecake - something my mom and i have been doing for a whiiiillle. well, she's been doing it for a while; i can't cook very well, so i did a lot of stirring and hovering.
but i did get the recipe, and i hope to be able to recreate this deliciousness.
notice also i've put some purple and pink into my hair, and gotten it back to its customary red. yeah, it looks a lot better this way. later on, better hair pictures to follow, because the pink and purple are pretty awesome.

so, on to presents...


my mom got me a sweater, which in NO way actually fit me, but it did fit her:
she is not much of a shopping person. her buying for me always tends toward fuzzy, be that sweater, sleeping pants, or socks.

the Matt did much better. he decided to populate our patio with a rocking bench, and a rockin' orange tree! see how cute?
pretty sweet.
this is the view from our kitchen.


also within the category of "presents" was visiting with Mirror, my best friend from high school who regularly gives me weird presents for no reason.
today, evidently, was photo-ninja day for her.
she hates pictures by digital camera. (no, i don't know why they're different from film, care to enlighten us, darling?)

one of my best friends from middle school who is in Korea currently, sent me this:
who knew Korean won was frickin' gorgeous?
well, now i know. thanks, Angel! : ]

gratuitous picture of the Matt and i:
i am playing with the "color select" settings on my camera, if you can't tell. to be honest, i still don't have the hang of digital cameras. i'm definitely a film camera kind of girl.

also, on our way back yesterday, we stopped at my favorite daiquiri place EVER in Slidell (picture that said with an accent like "Slaaahhhdelll, Looosiiianna" for full effect). they do Eggnog Daiquiris and they are SOOOO DAMN GOOOD!!! made with real cream and all.
this is how much i love them:
i love them so much i draw hearts on them. that much.
i always get a huge one. (the vitamin waters bottle is for size scale. also because i love that shit.) they also sell them by the gallon, so i'm seriously considering cleaning out my freezer in order to store delicious eggnoggy goodness.

so yeah, now i'm off to get all fancy for dinner.

i leave you with this knowledge of my dorkiness. i went to the harry potter 7: part 1 premiere, the midnight showing of course, AND i dressed up.
as hermione.

oh, yeah.

Story Comes To Town: Hijinks Ensue

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Y'ALL: SO EXCITED.

Story is in town!
HOLLA!
i dropped her a line months ago about how it would be awesome to see her if she ever came around this way, and LO AND BEHOLD i am obviously a magic Satan, because she is here.
happy dance!
go read and subscribe. Her Blog is Here.

you will not regret it.

Breaking News Here First!

i tell you guys first, because i love ya.

remember "Bag of Hammers" girl? Remember This Job?

guess who caught Bag of Hammers jerking off some customer in VIP the other night?

well no, not me, actually.
i know, i'm soooo disappointed.

but one of my friends caught her, and that's almost as awesome.

see, i hate this girl. i hate her to an almost-irrational extent. but it's not quite irrational.

see, this girl used to be my "manager." and despite being stupider than shit, she was *supposed* to be scheduling us. of course, she failed utterly at that. and she was fired eventually, before i was, which pleased me to no end.

but that's not why i hate her.

i hate her because she is younger than me but has an attitude problem. i hate her because she treated me like shit at that other job. she told me things like, "your hair looks like shit" and "your clothes are too baggy, you need to wear tighter clothing" and "don't even bother, because you'll be gone soon enough."

she stomped on my foot hard enough to bruise it for a week one night, and she did it twice in a row, which made me think it was deliberate. this bitch did everything one can possibly do to make me want to quit - and i don't scare or intimidate easily. she never intimidated me; she pissed me the fuck off.
and i bit my tongue, because i needed the money, and i figured it just when she was fired.

so yes, it was gratifying to see her on my turf - until i realized that i had to be in the same room with her. and she is a mean hustler. she will play every dirty trick in the book. still, she was getting rather more business than she had any right to get - and we all wondered why.

until SJ caught her turning tricks in VIP.

see, now we know. and now, the manager knows, and the house mom knows, and it's only a matter of time before she is OUT OF THERE.
it doesn't get much more damning than an eye-witness for someone doing illegal shit in VIP. that sort of thing managers take seriously, since it can get a club shut down.

so yeah. i am counting days when i don't ever have to see that bitch again!

if she wants to beat off old men in VIP, then let her do it at one of the scuzzy clubs down the street. and i won't have to bother pretending that i don't want to beat her in the head with a stripper heel!
and everybody will win.

NaNoWriMo updates

excerpt:

Brutal, Callous Honesty.

I’m known for it. And I don’t mean in the good way. I mean in the “Yes dear, you do look fat in that dress,” way. Some people like it, but I imagine it’s not a great friend-winning personality flaw.

Still, some people do tend to like me. Like Matt. I have no idea why he decided to have anything to do with me. I basically met him, and gave him all the honesty up front. We started out by meeting for drinks at a bar. Now, most people will dress up for a date – I went to this rendezvous in jeans, a baggy black hoodie, and absolutely no make-up. Hell, it’s how I usually look – why pretend any differently? We chatted back and forth, laid out the bare-bones details, and then I let fly with a little spiel that probably went something like this:

“Well, I’m not really looking to date anyone right now, so I’m pretty much on ‘friends-with-benefits’ level. I work full-time and I like space. Oh, and I’m definitely going to fuck other people. If that’s a problem, you probably don’t want to come anywhere near me.”

Somehow, Matt decided that he liked me, and although he did make me call him (he refuses to call a girl first on the “I want her to like me enough to call” basis, I call shenanigans on this particular viewpoint.), we did go out again. Well, we didn’t really go out. We just hung out at his house, smoked hookah, watched a movie, and fucked each other’s brains out. Not much “out” involved.

Somewhere early on in our “not-a-relationship” stage, I blurted out something that I STILL can’t live down. In my defense, I was drunk. And so was Matt. We were staying at my house, lying in bed, and very close to being asleep.

I said something humorous to him (can’t remember what, see: drunk) which evidently amused him, and he responded with “I like you.”

Most people would think that was cute, or romantic or something. They might even choose to reply in kind.

Me? Nah. I wasn’t looking for anything cute or romantic. So I merely said,
“Yeah… that could be a problem.”

And fell sound asleep.






...i know, i'm such a winner. he's very lucky to have me...

wherein i admit to sucking at NaNoWriMo

so far, 4905 words. i should be at, say, 12,000. roughly. erg.

so, procrastination! i'm good at that. this blog will be in pictures, pretty much.


what happens when a home-brewed beer that is sitting on your bookshelf EXPLODES due to too much carbonation...


the offending beer in question


...which is why my living room looks like this... yes, each and every book is sticky with beer.

all for now, since matt needs to suck ALLL the bandwidth by uploading crap to the interwebs.

picture spam... halloween costumes! stripper style

today at work totally made up for yesterday's awful shit.
rent (and bills) successfully paid, and then some!

so i took a few pictures today. yep.
also, got a new tattoo.
but first things first:
the "costume" i've been wearing all week...
this is just the demonstration picture. i swear i don't look like this all day at work.



i heart my fangs.

i thought this one turned out interestingly in the weird dressing room lights - so it's GratuitousPictureOfYourselfFriday, as it were.



so, on to today's costume. i was a harem girl. well, or just a gypsy, depending on who you asked. see, that's my dancer name - Gypsy. (yes, if you run into a dancer on bourbon street who goes by Gypsy, 10 to 1 odds it's me, i don't know any others.)


cute, right?

although i will say, the harem pants were a BITCH to try to get off over those heels, so mostly i didn't bother, except for one lapdance. hell, they were see-through. besides, there were a ton of dancers there, so i wasn't on stage too much, which is nice, if there are guys tipping/buying dances in the club. which there were!

tomorrow i'm not at the club, but sunday i'm wearing my pirate stuff, in addition to the belly dancing coins. gypsy pirate, will be the theme. it'll be fun.
and yes, i will take pics then, too.

now, on to my new tattoo!



okay, so you know the music festival i worked last summer? and the picture of me in the bus, in my header?
yeah. well, the name of that bus is Further. (yes, you might want to research Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters to get some back story. in fact, i highly encourage it...)
soooo, my new tattoo is
A. in homage to Further,
B. a nod to the music festival i got to be a part of, and
C. a gay pride tattoo, OBVIOUSLY!

a closer picture:


i know it looks all gross and shiny and scabby right now but that's because i only got it like 3 hours ago, and all the excess ink/plasma/blood still isn't off of it yet...

well, i'm getting there...but i had to play show and tell first!
you're totally welcome.
: ]

satan-rage

i hate having things sprung upon me.

that's not to say that i don't like surprises, i do. good surprises, like presents and friends stopping by, and free dinners. what i don't like is shit like "oh hey, and tomorrow we're gonna go and volunteer to wash the asses of the incontinent" or something equivalently unpleasant.
i can suck up a lot of things, given advance warning, but let me tell you, if you spring it on me the day before, my reaction is gonna go a whole lot like this:


GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

like, for example, the Matt's oh-so-studiously-innocuous "hey i know you're kinda working a gig this weekend for us as a favor because my boss has voodoo fest tickets and doesn't want to do it, and oh yeah you're gonna have to do the hard part yourself even though i know you've never done it before, but don't worry, i will show you how before saturday" bit about, oh, thirty seconds ago before he skipped off to bed.

(note time on blog. this is me, trying to wind down to go to sleep, to then go to work tomorrow and attempt to make my side of the motherfucking rent before monday - NOT a good time to spring shit upon me that makes me truly fucking cagey.)

what enrages me the most, is that it's something that is able to be competently completed by someone else who knows what they are doing - and will in fact BE THERE - but they want me to learn RIGHTTHEFUCKNOW.

btw guys? right the fuck now, i am stressed the fuck out. i have a lot of shit going on. i work 5 or 6 days a week compared to your 1 or 2 or 3, depending on how busy your weekend is. i don't have 4 week days to sit around and accomplish things. hell, sometimes i can't find time to do my goddamn laundry.

and hey, this involves electronics. know how bad i am at anything techie?
i still have anxiety about my own computer working correctly - setting up all the speakers/external hard drive/etc. know why i still don't have all my shit transferred over to my new computer? yeah. tech anxiety.

much less plugging fourteen different things with cords into a strange computer which all have to be inserted in a specific order lest they FUCK UP and make your life a LIVING HELL by working improperly and causing me to be on the phone and stressed all goddamn night while simultaneously trying to be nice to royal idiots at a wedding - blargh, see where i'm going with this? i hate technology, i really do. it stresses me out at the best of times. hell, i am still figuring blogger out.

(btw...this is a photobooth gig. sounds easy. probably is if you know what you are doing. i most emphatically DO NOT.)

laugh, but i have performance anxiety for shit like this.

i can get naked on stage all night long, i can perform any sort of vocals with music or a cappella, i can do theater improv, i can do all kinds of things that make other people have nervous breakdowns without thinking twice.

anything involving technology makes me sweat bullets.

thank you, the Matt, for inducing tonight's anxiety-ridden insomnia.
because, you know, that's totally gonna improve my mood for working tomorrow. after having the most pathetic shift EVER today. (a record $7 dollars was tipped to me on stage today... that's not counting off stage, but lemmetellyou, it didn't get much better than that.)

#boyfriendFAIL

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

some random pics for you...

sooo, i know these are so old. but whatever.
remember the awesome boots i got for the evil cowboy bar job that fired me (for NOTHING, i might add, except for complaining about being SEXUALLY ASSAULTED on the job and them not doing anything about it...)?
yep, picture:



also, for a while i had some great cornrows in my hair...



yeah. i loved it.
and this is what happens to your hair when you take it out...
bride. of. frankenstein.



and that's all for now, folks.

okay, so i'm totally insane. and this proves it.

i'm doing NaNoWriMo this year.

so, i can pretty much say there may be some radio silence on this here ye olde blog.
although i certainly hope to post random snippets from time to time. and maybe word count updates...

for those of you who don't know what NaNoWriMo is, go here and be enlightened.

okay, get it now?
i will officially have NO life in november. besides making sweet, sweet typy love to my laptop.

BUT! hopefully i will end up with bunches of usable material for my book project...
wish me luck!

also? i think i'm going to go strip as a pirate tomorrow. or maybe a belly dancer, i dunno... leave the pirate "big guns" for sunday, actual halloween?
btw, i mean full-out. gauntlets, pirate stripper outfit, and a very large, oh-so-authentic pirate hat. this thing is like 3 feet long, including its multiple feathers.
hell, i'll have to take pictures.

hello, stripper mojo! i see we're back.

i've had a great week at the strip club so far, it's been really outstanding. i've made decent (if not excellent) money all week, and i've had encounters with very few Douchebags, and a whole lot of great customers. so much awesomeness.

i read a ton of blogs - among them, blogs of fellow strippers. strangely enough, it helps me gear into the right mindset to go to work, instead of, say, making me very tired of all things strip-club related.
so this one lady i read, Ava Adore, has a great thing - a DSM of all the various types of Douchebags that come into strip clubs. i think this is a fantastic idea - but instead, since i've had a great week (and presumably, it'll continue!), i'm going to do a post of all the awesome types of customers i've had this week.

The Shockingly Stoked Straight Girl
she says she's straight, and she came with her boyfriend. yet she's the one who's pulling him up to the stage, and pushing dollars into his shirt so you can retrieve them with your boobies. add persistent drunken "omg you're sooooo beautiful!" comments, and this girl can make a day shift - by buying lapdances for her friends, or herself.
thank you, straight girl! : ]

The Merry Married Couple
they're married, they're at the tip rail, and they're having a blast. the lady is smiling, and when one spouse leaves the table, the other is shoving money at you under the table to get the other a dance.
they say the couple that plays together stays together, and they're right.
you guys kick ass.

The Group of Young People Who Tip
they're drunk on bourbon street, they're 20-somethings, and they understand the importance of Tipping The Stripper. unlike their asshole redneck/fratboy/Douchebag brethren, they Get It - and they are having a blast. and hey, so am i, cuz someone just threw a $20 onstage!

The Older Gentleman What Wants A Lapdance
i have this thing, where after i've sat with someone for a minute and made the obligatory introductions, i ask them what they've come in for. ("so, you here for the titties, the sports, or the beer? what's your favorite thing to do here?")
this guy has come in for the girls, wants a dance or two (or five...), and after some nice intellectual conversation, takes you back for the aforementioned lapdances. and when he's done, he leaves. no time wasted, and all is fun.

The Decorators
they come in to drink, and to hand me money. they're semi-regulars. they won't go tip you while you're on stage, and they won't buy dances - but they will hand you $10s, $20s, or $50s while they sit and drink. and they'll also get you reeeallly drunk, if you're into that sort of thing. they can make a really dead day shift into a fantastic shift, simply by being there.

i've run out of the stereotypes for now, but hey, at least there's this many of them in one week!
woohooo!!

i'm pretty sure i win this week.
: ]

VERY IMPORTANT y'all, i need some advice.

so. i went to the salon. got a hair cut and a dye job.
love the hair cut! (first haircut in almost a year... it was truly necessary. no more dead ends, yay.)
not so much the dye job. i think it kinda blows. here, to jog your memory, some pictures of what my hair used to look like:




the plan was to go blonde, in order to do a social experiment.
i mean, i'm a stripper, sure, but i have a brain, and i am frequently bored at work. so i wanted to see if i would be treated differently, if i changed my hair color to blonde, and toned down the "i just pulled out an SAT word at this club, yeah, bitches" stuff i usually do. in other words, acted a bit more "dumb blonde."
for the record, i don't think blondes are dumb. i think boys who expect blondes to be dumb are the stupid ones.
i have also noticed that the plastic-looking blondes at my club seem to be the ones making the most money, so i was also wondering if my money would change. i am just curious, i want to know if it matters!

so. i asked the colorist if she could make me blonde, given my red/green hair, and she was like, "totally, easy."
ha.

well, this is the result:




note the "seriously PISSED" face.
yeah, it's definitely not what i was going for.

now. my question for you is, is this haircolor
A. bearable, i should keep it for a month to try and use this for my blonde experiment, or
B. absolutely awful, and i should dye it back to red, IMMEDIATELY?

voting, commence!!!

so.

i am now back at my house. look what matt did to it, in order for me to be able to breathe...





so now, evidently, i am bubble girl. every one of our windows looks like this.
it's not glamorous, but it will at least keep most of the dust out.
i've spent one night back home and it hasn't gotten me sick yet...
we shall see, neighbor, we shall see.
i am still considering billing him for the visit to urgentcare/my inability to go back to work. would that be too bitchy, or just JUST?

sick unto death, nay! unto tubercular psychosis

i write this post from a friend's house, a friend who has been so wonderful to me...
why, might you ask?

well, the short version is, my next-door neighbor is renovating his house.

the long version, is thus:

i like my neighbor joe. he's a nice enough guy. he's also lived in our neighborhood since he was a kid, so i figure that gives him privileges that we renters don't have. so when he told us he was going to renovate his house, i said, "good for you!" and meant it.
that, of course, was before i didn't get a good night's sleep due to construction, for the last month +.
i mean, i am a VERY, VERY sound sleeper. i can handle hammers, and assorted demo work. i can handle the loud music. but after it reaches a certain decibel level, no one can sleep through this crap. but i understand, renovations sometimes must be done. so i wasn't about to complain.
i could even handle the nail gun, which made me wake up panicking, sincerely thinking my house was being shot at. (yes, our neighborhood does occasionally get shootings, but not during the day...and not next door.)

what i can't handle is the shouting. these guys are all family, and their preferred means of communication is at the absolute top of their lungs, and that's when they AREN'T arguing. if they are arguing (and they argue every day), gods, i bet the entire block can hear them.
keep in mind, this is new orleans. shotgun houses. most of this work is all taking place ABOUT 5 FEET FROM MY FUCKING HEAD.
but i've been Good Neighbor, and i have not complained. i have kept the dirty looks (as i walk out to the car to go to work in the "morning") to a minimum. i understand they need sunlight to work. it doesn't help that i do most of my sleeping in sunlight hours (how else would i stay so vampirically pale?)
no, all was reasonably non-psychotic in my little head. yes, the construction next door was Fucking With My Allergies/Asthma, but not in a lethal way. in a dusty way.

and then, THIS HAPPENED. i will let the picture do the talking.



my house is on the left.
"why satan," you might ask, "is that your neighbor's ENTIRE FUCKING WALL leaning against your house?"
yes. yes it is.
only me.
this shit only happens to me.

completely ignoring how the hell this structural weakness might happen, (answer: rampant termites) i am completely stunned by the fact that it remained in one piece (especially after it impacted with our house and shook the walls), until they had to bust it apart and carry it to the dumpster.
i chalked this up to a picturesque story to tell pretty much everyone, and left it at that. after 24 hours, though, it was quite apparent that i had no choice but to think about it more.

see, i am allergic to EVERYTHING except foods and medicines. by which i mean: cats, dogs, horses (REALLY?), grass, roaches(possibly other insects, who knows...), pine trees, oak trees, probably all trees, molds, mildews, dust, rats (this i found out by owning them... didn't know that before), hay, probably a bunch of flowers, and who knows what else.

now, i am allergic to a bunch of things, but i'm not bubble girl. i live in a dusty old house, with windows that don't seal properly. i have 2 (3?) cats, and 2 rats. i am not usually in respiratory distress. it takes something really terrible to give me this kind of reaction. the last two things that made me this sick were, 1. a house with asbestos insulation IN OUR HEATER, and 2. a carpeted house with 7 cats. i lived in those houses. i am merely close to this one, and it has almost killed me.

i don't know what the hell is in joe's house (my guesses are black mold AND asbestos), but within a day, it made my asthma flare up so badly that i was literally afraid to sleep, in case i quit breathing in the middle of the night, and didn't wake up.
it cost me $125 + who knows how much else the Urgent Care clinic will bill me, to be able to not drown in my own lungs. i am still recovering in a friend's allergen-free house.
as we speak, the Matt is putting plastic sheeting over every single window in our house, and using rolls of tape to anchor it to the walls. i have my HEPA filter going full blast... i am still afraid that i will not be able to stay in my house.

oh, yeah. best part? after he's done with the walls, joe plans to re-roof the fucker. can we guess how much shit i'm allergic to might be in a 100+ year old attic? i shudder to think. he might be done by december, according to his estimates.
yeah? i may be moving...

so check out some progress shots:





well, one is of the (beautiful, awesome) slate roof that he will be replacing. the others are of the construction.

i joke around a bunch, both on this blog, and in general, in my life. i don't joke about asthma. it has almost killed me a couple of times, and it is not pleasant. so when i say i felt like i was going to die the other night, i mean it. that short of breath. that afraid to lie down.

joe, much love for you man, but i think i'm declaring a neighbor war.
maybe you'd like to pay my medical bills?
because, i can't fucking work. haven't been able to for almost 2 weeks now, due to all this shit. i don't have any insurance. and i CAN call the board of health on you for doing your demo in a completely illegal fashion... i think the air health level is definitely not kosher.
i am a very healthy human being normally, and you have deprived me of my health, and my income. not cool.
i have to think more about a plan of action here that doesn't involve hanging out my window and shooting with a BB gun (because i can't open my windows anymore... or shut off my a/c and enjoy the cool weather like i planned...)
because i'm still at my friend's house, still coughing like it's going out of fashion, and i need a better option.

you can't win them all... and sometimes, you just can't win.

y'all will never guess who fucking showed up in my club.

remember Bag of Hammers girl? as in, my former boss, who is Dumber Than A?
(actually, that's insulting the hammers.)
yeeaaah.

she, who was so holier-than-thou about most of the dancers at the country bar being former/current strippers? the one who repeatedly told us to stop shaking it "like strippers"?
uh huh. guess what she is, now.
HA!

my only problem is, really, did it HAVE to be my club? there are so many other fucking clubs she could be working at.
why, why mine?
only my life.

although, i have to admit, it does come with a bit of satisfaction. like, watching her completely fail to make money on the first night of NFL, when she showed up in fucking VIKINGS colors....

and you know, every time i watch her stumble around on the stage looking like she knows all the right stripper moves, but can't manage to make them look like anything but a badly pieced-together montage of the worst moves from a shitty porn, i just smile and smile. i've seem many baby strippers, but most of them just look new. she just looks as if she can't dance, and will never manage to get the look down.
i will be shocked if she lasts a month.

karma lasts laugh. and sometimes, while topless.

perhaps someone has an answer to this?

i really, really need a better layout for my blog.
however, i am also not (at this point in my financial standings) willing to pay for a layout...
i don't need something super fancy, just a way to customize it, because i accidentally screwed up my settings last night, and it looks like ass, and i kinda can't figure out how to fix it...

::blogging fail::

anyone have any good ideas??

back to "regularly" scheduled programming...

ah, what a new (used) mac can bring! updates on my favorite bloggers, and a whole bunch of time-wasting activities (a la facebook...)
at last, i am back.

now, it comes to my attention that "stripping" might not be specific, so for the record:
stripping, as in dancing, topless. in new orleans, currently, on bourbon street.

FAQs:
OMG reallly?
yes, really. for, i am not ashamed of my job. like any other job, it has great perks and also big drawbacks, which often result in really funny stories.

do your parents know???!?!?!!!!
yes. for reasons that are actually hilarious, and will no doubt be written about one day, when i am not being lazy. while i wouldn't say either of them "approve," per se, they accept it just fine.

does your boyfriend know?
knows, and accepts. possibly encourages. "conflicted," says he. i believe his biggest issue with my job is possible safety issues. nice people are not on bourbon street, this is undeniable.

do you like it?
gah, that's complicated! yes, and no. yes, because it's easy. no real schedule, i get to drink on the job, and sometimes it's really, really easy money. i don't mind being naked in public, or talking to total strangers. and i really, really love dancing, and being a performer, and having a stage to do it on.
no, because some customers are just fucking asshats, and fail to treat you like a human being, much less one deserving respect. but then again...jobs. they sometimes do and do not come with lots of dignity. eh?
now, i've been doing this on and off, for five years. so obviously it's not something i absolutely hate.


that probably about covers the very FAQs, others may be asked in comment box below, and NOW... to the point of this blog (HA...)
What I AM UP TO RECENTLY.

mostly dancing. see, in new orleans, almost all the local clubs are right on, or a block off, bourbon street. it's like one big street full of half-naked. especially with all the tourist girls flashing for beads.
(news flash, y'all? they're plastic beads. not worth flashing for, every local knows this...)
so, since vacating the country bar, i've been at the Club, which we will not name for fairly obvious reasons. i could be surfing back and forth to several clubs, but i tend to like one, and stick to it. makes for ease of not having to cart a whole bunch of stripper shit around.
nice things in this club:
great big dressing rooms, with tons of lockers. there's a washer/dryer and showers, and it's actually clean, which can be a total rarity in strip clubs. it has granite stages, one stationary pole, and one spinner pole.
comes with the requisite staff, some awesome bartenders/waitresses, the usual mix of customers.

saints games are crazy down here, especially home games, and good times to be running around a bunch of sports nuts, half naked, in black and gold. supposedly i'll be going into work tomorrow for said game, however: i have felt like crapola all week long, and have only managed to go in for two days.
like i said, any jobs has a perk or two, and at this particular club, all you have to do is show up whenever you want to work. now, the managers may call and try to persuade you in on other days, but if you don't go it, it's not like they can fire you, unless you're doing something like turning tricks in the VIP rooms, or Being a Drunken Mess All Of The Time. (some clubs might tolerate this behavior, but mine doesn't. which is a good portion of the reason i like it.)
so, if i want to be lazy for a week, i can be. it's nice. especially when you're feeling badly. on the other hand, i don't make any money on my couch. being self-employed sometimes requires you to be more motivated than usual about working, or you won't ever work.

since i don't really have any motivation at the moment (to work or really do a good job at blogging, or at least being funny) i will give you a random list of interesting/amusing/horrifying things that have happened at work recently.

in the past couple weeks i've talked to people from: canada, india, scotland, england, turkey, and probably at least 3 other places i'm forgetting. oh, switzerland. the scots and swiss were hot.

a guy totally licked my ear during a lapdance... i literally gave a full-body shudder, and took the sleeve of his t-shirt and scrubbed the shit out of my ear. you can best believe i beat it post-haste after that dance to the bathroom to have an impromptu bath.
attention, strip club patrons: tongue in ear is NOT hot. EVER. I DO NOT LET MY BOYFRIEND(OR GIRLFRIEND) DO THIS. get a clue!
second...even if i liked this, it's still not appropriate to do to your friendly neighborhood stripper, unless you receive verbal go-ahead.

i found out one of the DJs, who is normally a wonderful person, won't play Sparta and At the Drive-In for me, and this makes him suck a bit.

i drink one particular brand of bourbon at work (Bulleit, for the interested, it's a small batch and it's both tasty and affordable), and i found out that the bar goes through about a bottle of it per week. now, i am usually the probable sole drinker of this bourbon, which makes me feel a tad bit alcoholic. i'm not, but still, that's a bit in excess of how much i usually drink.
drinking on the job is probably not so good for you. also, living in new orleans probably doesn't help. i'm fairly convinced drunk driving is an unofficial louisiana sport or something. the culture here is swimming in the sauce. (not bashing, i'm just saying...we drink. a lot. hell, i have a monday night club devoted to this sport.)

aaaand, let the comments commence!!!

: ]

my computer has given up the ghost....

which is partially the reason i haven't been here much.
also, other reasons:
quitting the cowboy job,
stripping a whole lot more, and
lazy. did i mention that one yet?
yeah.

but i'm not dead, and i will return.
and i made a ton of money tonight, woo! how i love the saints games...

i'm probably a terrible person, but: god is bad for you, y'all.

i'm starting a bad trend of sitting down to blog when i'm non-sober.
i just went and made myself a vodka and sweet tea.
i realize this is disgusting, it's just that someone gave me half a bottle of free vodka with a pour spout the other day (i was actually more excited about the pour spout), and we have nothing else to mix with besides milk. and trust me, i am not stupid enough to mix that shit up. tea, yes. milk, no.
whoever created the white russian must have had a gastric death wish.
vodka isn't exactly my friend. it's been responsible for
A. giving me a terrible first-time-smoking-weed experience,
B. almost killing me in college several times,
C. making me puke all over the damn place, also several times. maybe more than several.

i usually avoid that shit, but unfortunately, i don't turn down free booze unless it's truly terrible, and this is absolut, so i made the sacrifice. i hope my liver forgives me.
i have a feeling i'm going to regret this night in the morning.

so anyways, i was obviously far too bored tonight, so i watched this documentary called Jesus Camp tonight, after work.
i learned that evangelicals are fucking scary.
of course, i knew that anyway, i grew up with some overly christian parents who guilt tripped me about the weirdest shit, but i did turn out mostly normal, i think...
wait, no, never mind. strike that, your honor.
don't get me wrong, i do support freedom of religion, but goddamn, i do not support indoctrination of children, plus a bunch of "sin" guilt-tripping and political lobbying within churches.
naturally, being me, i wanted to do something subversive while watching this, and somehow that thing turned out to be equipping myself with a pair of tweezers and "grooming" my pubic region, seeing as how i'll be getting naked for money at job #3 tomorrow (yes, i'm stripping again, is anyone here shocked? no? good, you're getting to know me).
so i'm sitting there, yelling at the tv people for telling children terrible things about abortion (which i fully support, for full disclosure), extending my middle finger and waving it at the screen a bit, and then muttering "ouch!" when i pinch myself with the tweezers.
my life is exciting.

work has become insane, due to several things:
1. new manager for the dancers !!!!!! oh yes, bag of hammers girl is gone. i feel so vindicated.
2. 5 days a week of work instead of 3...
3. now working at 3 clubs instead of one, so i rotate around. well it's not boring, at least.
4. i got new boots! they are red. well, at least partially. i should be posting a picture, but know what, i'm not, because i'm lazy! maybe also a bit intoxicated. i'm sure you'll get a picture later. you'll also get a before-and-after picture set, because i have lost a bit of weight from this job, a surprising amount, actually. at least 2 pants sizes, so far. i'd be way more pleased about this normally, but buying new shorts all the time is getting expensive!

i like being lazy, so i am blogging in my underwear. just so you know i'm not lying, here you go:
you're welcome.



i know, god i'm hot.
shit, i'm out of vodka tea. gonna get more.
i really am going to regret this in the morning. the vodka, i mean. oh, well.




additional last thought to leave you with: i am really terrified of spiders. even when they are not massive.
and yes, i know, i need a tan. know why i don't have one, even though i live in the sunny, sunny south? bar jobs. they = having the schedule of a vampire.
and with that y'all, it's getting light out, i gotta go to bed.
with this vodka sweet tea and a bowl, that is...
: ]

shoe fetish. i haz one.

oh yes, i do.



this here would be the converse collection, all of which has been garnered at goodwil over the years. i <3 goodwill, so much.



my obsession with doc martins started in high school; here you see the original shiny patent leather black docs i got at a thrift store, and also my other two patent docs;

this is what happens when you A. have an obsession, B. get invited to a DOC MARTINS WAREHOUSE SALE that (gives away) sells new docs for $30 a pop.
yep, patent leather docs in all colors.

also, a goodwill find:



yes, shiny purple suede docs. you are welcome.



the high heel section. minus a few interesting examples:




stripper heels are always the best. yes, you are seeing that correctly, they aren't connected between the ball & heel of the foot. no, i've never seen anything like them again. they are made of wood, and need repairs, as i destroyed them dancing.
also, more dancer shoes:




well, one pair anyway.
btw, for no reason whatsoever, here is a small tutorial on how to tell if a girl has ever used her stripper shoes to actually be a stripper. here's proof:




the worn spots/superglued-on sole of the shoe is proof that a girl has used her stripper shoes in the approved manner, ie, dragging herself backwards and doing that ass-shaking thing strippers do, with her platforms holding most of her weight.
either that, or pictures like this:


notice the regulation stripper tie-shorties...sorry it's blurry. (taken at night, no flash...)


this picture makes my ass look so much bigger than it really is, which amuses me.

(yes, that's really me. any other stupid FAQ's?)

of course, you can also have the stripper dominatrix boot, very popular with a select audience:



most of them being masochists.



or these, which an ex gave to me, because he knew out of all people, i would appreciate the sarcastic/ironic/ugliness quotient of these boots, and wear them anyway. i definitely did. they would have been made awesomer, if they they were made of the real deal, vs. plastic snakeskin/microsuede.
only issue was, they were highly uncomfortable - and also hot. but I WORE THEM, A. i did it just for you. <3




because sometimes, birkenstock puts out clogs so goddamn ugly, that eventually they get reduced to $8 at nordstrom rack, and i wander in and am all like "OMG SHEEPY SHOES WITH SHEPHERDS, i'm gonna hug 'em and kiss 'em and squeeze 'em and love them... comfy!!!" yep. just like that. only with "wearing them out of the store" powers included, while people stare at me like i'm the maniac. puh-leeze.



oldest pair of converse, the only pair bought new, and look what i've done to them over the years: spiderman shoelaces, doodling... well, to be frank, i've had them since high school and i'll NEVER LET THEM DIE... never.
AAAND the coolest roller skates ever, given to me by a friend. we found them (and fought over them...she kinda won) at an antique store somewhere.

now, quick, to sleep before the sun comes up...and i sober up... and also, before i have to actually go to work. thank the gods they caffeinate us for free.